


Queen's Consorts

by Reader_as_YourName20



Series: It's going to be, meant to be (us) [2]
Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Actually I'm just doing this for fun, Aro is mated with Caius and Marcus, BAMF Reader, F/F, Her "Sons" wants her to stay home, No heavy-plot but not plotless, Polyamory, Reader is Elizabeth Holmwood, Reader is the only Queen of Volturi, Reader's love live is the plot, because you are ancient as fuck, but she retired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25446796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reader_as_YourName20/pseuds/Reader_as_YourName20
Summary: The Volturi Coven, the largest and most powerful coven in the vampire world, stands strong as the foundation of peace, order, and civilization.It's current Rulers?Aro, Caius, and Marcus -who are making a grand gesture to welcome the coven's Mother. She have been gone, hidden for many years and her sons have ruled in her place as Kings.But it's time she return and the three Kings themselves have prepared three lady-in-waiting for their matriarch, hoping that this time, she'll stay much longer.
Relationships: Athenodora/Reader, Didyme/Reader, Sulpicia/Athenodora/Didyme/Reader, Sulpicia/Reader
Series: It's going to be, meant to be (us) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1843093
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	1. The Three Kings

“Why now, Aro?” The questioner was a man, young and stud in appearance. His blond hair, gloss and slick back, remain resting upon his shoulders, tucked under his dark robe. Pair of seething red watched the other progeny in front with calculated sneer. “What brought this idea of yours to check on Mother?”

This very area, the floor they’re descending towards, belongs to _Mother_. Claimed by right, deserted because of a simple order -an order which Caius is very wary to test against.

Being somewhere near it feels like an act of insubordination.

Of course, he’s the only one feeling that way as the man in front of him has the nerve to laugh.

“Now, now, Caius dear, don’t act so peeved. It’s a must.” Aro, the oldest successor, has always been the voice and face of their empire. 

He has an aloof aura, encouraged by the woman that claimed them as her brood, thus he has the tendency to catch many traitors off guard with his jovial manners. His young face hides a sly and experienced mind. 

He wore the same kind of robe, but Aro carries it more lightly -as if he moves with a dance he only knew of. Not to mention his eyes, though red like theirs, are beaming with every childlike way.

But those who have lived his reign tell different stories with the same moral lesson.

Aro is not someone to be treated lightly.

“We’re here to see if her notions flow the same path.” Aro glanced back, taking careful steps. He chuckles, grinning widely as he inspects his co-leader’s expression. “And do stop puffing your chest, _tesoro_ .” [ _Darling_ ]

Caius, in response, growled. Though before he could act rashly, a pair of hands sling onto his shoulders from behind.

A more serene laughter plays by Caius’ ear, relaxing him instantly. 

Marcus, ever the peacemaker, has decided to step in before any roughhousing could take place on the stairs.

“We are in her territory.” Marcus reminded them with a soft hush tone. “Be civil, at least, until we gave Mother our respect, please.”

Older in mortal age, Marcus surprisingly took the role of being the heart of the three Kings. 

Aro might be the mastermind and Caius the force, but Marcus is the one they always run to in time of need and reason. He is their true keeper, only provider, and, the most important aspect in a vampire’s life, their bonded lover.

Marcus knows of his subtle incongruity compared to his mates. He has the same beauty and immortality, even sharing the same sire, but it is his eyes that makes him stand out. The pair glean with pinkish hue. 

Still without a solid explanation, Marcus just likes to think it’s because of their Mother. 

He sees bonds, you see. 

The strings coming from the heart, they never lie about one’s feelings towards everyone they know. And every person he has met, might they be human or a vampire, are all transparent to his gift. 

They reach the floor finally, taking their time to walk through the tunnel leading them to their mother’s place of rest. No one, other than them, has ever set foot in there for many years.

 _No one_ because the three Kings guard it with their lives, protective of the secret it hides from the aging world. They killed those who are curious of it -by daring to even _think_ of coming to the floor.

The sole members of their clan knew to never try -only if a vampire had a death wish would even irk the vicious Kings in such a way.

The ancient room remains irrelevant to the fleeting time, as if it’s oblivious to its effect. It’s identical to a bedroom chamber with muted gray walls that are still smooth, bold with beauty and decor with collections from eras it has lived through. 

There was no bed and linens though and, instead, in its space is a mausoleum.

Oh, if only these walls could speak. 

They could tell you tales of the upbringing of their kind, about a woman that governed for a hundred before the three Kings even took their first breath. The walls will whisper about a woman, ageless, kind, whose image has been hidden underneath the soil which she builds her foundation on. 

Where her children rule...

She, who gave them their royalty with kind advice and promises to return, is their _Mother_. 

The sons, the Kings, took unneeded breaths, each of their own as they stood without motion. They let only a moment pass before Aro, Caius, and Marcus, presenting themselves in their proper line of birth, kneeled.

It is not brute and fear that made them bend their knees nor was it from a threat and strict order. No. Each of them will tell you contrasting reasons why, personal or not, but the Kings will agree that it’s their respect that made their act.

“Caius, if you wish…” Aro gestured to the tomb, genuine with his inquiry.

The blond King bobs his head, appearing next to the monument the next. Carefully, he removed the lid with practiced ease.

She rests with such a peaceful face, vulnerable she might be, the woman is confident that she is safe in the house of her clan.

That is why none of the King ever dally -to be entrusted by her while she is like this…

Marcus fell into deep awe, eyes beaming, as he stood next to Aro. He glances at the two, watching strings coming from him and both of his mates have remained just as true, like before, to their matriarch.

Caius’ body purrs in content, happy to see that she has prevailed. She inevitably does but, admittedly, seeing her like this always feels like the first time -his worries and doubts evaporate here and then. 

“Ciao madre.” [ _Hello mother_ ] Aro greeted softly, his face washed off from pretense. There is only calm.

Marcus places a hand on Aro’s right shoulder and, when their eyes meet, he nods encouragingly for the other man to start.

Aro reached out for the woman’s hand.

Caius watched him carefully, wondering what could be the verdict. Is she going to wake and join them soon or will they have to wait longer than before?

Will they finally learn why she retired from her strong, dominating reign over the vampire world?

Aro gasps, bringing both dread to the other Kings but his sudden smile reassures them. 

“Quick now, let us go.” Aro put the lid back on in a rush, giddy and fidgeting -not unlikely of him but both Caius and Marcus find themselves wondering what brought such a reaction out of Aro.

The three Kings return to the above, Aro letting out a gleeful laugh as they enter the throne room.

"Jane! Call every guard and gather them here!" Aro called out loudly and as he said so, many guards speed inside, taking their place.

The girl appeared with her brother, taking their usual place by the side of the thrones.

“Aro, what did Mother tell you?” It was, surprisingly, Marcus who felt too impatient to wait as Aro shakes off his excitement.

Teetering as he makes his way to the middle throne, Aro face the guards, bellowing “We’re expecting the return of the Queen of the Volturi!” for everyone to hear. "It's time, we must prepare now!"

And this time, with each guard heeding different orders and tasked with something to prepare, the three Kings will make sure to appease their mother. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A change of point of view.  
> This is a little experiment though so I think this sort of POV is only on this chapter :D
> 
> ENJOY~

Arguably, you do not sleep. 

It is an intangible concept that your evolved kind cannot reach. 

So you rest.

Your Sire has done this method with his many coffins of native dirt but you find no attachment to the land of your birth. You can peacefully continue to rest inside the walls of your mausoleum. It’s prevailing treatments have you… comforted. It takes you back to your old life, somehow.

Your rest is a gift, timed by a deity of many. Red, which you named the red thread that follows you and whom you share concord with, is what pushes you to continue to do its obligations in exchange for gifts. Your actions are validated once you receive its gifts, so you prosper under its watchful thread.

Your gift of shadeshift -only managing to de-age and grow older -which you receive after heeding Dracula’s wish. An accelerated healing factor, something that developed after meeting that Vampire Slayer, and your ability to… rest came after. 

...You think your desire for sleep was finally answered once Achsah got to live.

The ruined temple you found inside the cave had been your place of rest. 

You learn of the ancient text that was written on the walls through Dracula’s memories, he was a studious man that lived for many years, learning a few simple things here and there.

You were right in your assumptions, that there was a tribe that used to live there long before you were even alive. You can only assume that they were driven away by natural causes seeing how the temple is shattered by rocks.

Your rest comes with a certain trait.

It’s like flying, time will pass and you with it, but you do not dream. You’re just… this passenger of time.

You see everything, everywhere it might be. You can watch leaves as it flies with the wind, see where it will go and will know when it will fall. You will see the river steam, it’s forks and its way it will be divided.

You do not see the future, you only know what it will be.

Dracula’s blood did more than tell his story.

It made yours too.

You “woke up” hearing humans, their footsteps harsh as it landed on the soil of the forest land. They were with weapons, armed with guns while yelling words garnished with brash and curses that can make a witch jealous.

You  _ know  _ to let them pass, some will get lost while little of their number will return to their homes.

Red told you so -or more likely,  _ showed  _ you.

You stand up, keen ears strained to hear further, but it was the smell of death that prompted you to walk out of the cave.

The fall of the water is gentle, unlike in the past. It’s a slight change you noticed and you remember the work of a dam somewhere must have been finished now.

You see the girl’s limping figure with a boy collapsing on her side.

You wait, the dark around you, and only when she finally fainted did you move again. Picking both children carefully, you return to your temporary abode and nurse them there.

Their fresh, dripping blood causes you some trouble. The burning in your throat made an appearance after generations of rest but you thrive not as an animal.

Only when you realize the two will need proper care did you leave them.

It was Achsah’s teaching you remember and it helped you pick the right herbs for medicine. You hunted as well, those lost men were satisfying to drink from. By them you become informed of the city prospering by the mountains. They were the ones that founded the dam and have been terrorizing tribes ever since.

Many have fallen because of their disgust to other’s beliefs.

You rob them of their clothes and things, burying their body with their weapons.

That hunt left a primal side of you baring its teeth but you tried not to be a monster, even if these men had been savage themselves.

You also found a deer and brought it back to the cave, and you reminisce as you tend to the unconscious children. You miss your sister, Achsah. It’s hard not to when it’s because of her that you were able to nurse both the girl and the boy.

It was when the sun was at its highest that the two woke up, the cooking meat helped encourage them. 

Red says things in a whisper, it leaves you confused but directed though. So you knew that, when you meet both their eyes, that you are familiar.

Uncertain they were, the girl cowered and bowed. Prayers are sung under her breath while her brother looks at you with awe.

You tell them to eat and heal, asking them of last dawn.

The boy says your foretold expectation, of the night they were chased by a group from the town when they tried to sell leather and animal skin. 

They both speak in familiar tongue, and it assured you so much that for the many days, nights of sharing the comfort of the fire, you took them under your wings like how Achsah had.

One night, the last night of your stay in the cave -for you and the children will now journey back to their tribe together -happened just as Red predicted.

It was the boy that speaks of your red eyes like the stories they were told. He told you about the Cold One their tribe Elders have spoken of. 

So you told them about your sister, Achsah, and the night that you two separated. 

The girl says they know of Achsah.

You already got the idea by their shared eyes.

Still, they proved to be more when they shifted in front of you.

It was like meeting family.

The journey is spent with minimal danger, some which you handled by yourself as you scout throughout the nights around the fire that you keep going until shining dawn. 

You teach the children about control. 

They know to listen to you. It is their belief of your God-like birth that puts you above them. You tell them you are no God, but they continue to look at you as superior still.

After all, they think it is because of you that they were able to become a wolf. Achsah was the one to tell them about you, shared to everyone in the tribe. A certain day told that a pack of wolves made a pact with the tribe, becoming protectors.

Soon, the tribe become brothers with the pack, and meet a wonderful fate together.

It was not your doing, but they’ve believed that it connected to you somehow.

You watch as they grow confident, together, and it brings comfort to have something alive to keenly watch everyday after realizing your prompted loneliness before them.

Your arrival with the children was a surprise but welcomed.

One look of you and the tribal people already knew who you are. They touch, they say prayers with hums and treat you with a generous amount, but you only ask for your sister so they bring you to her.

Achsah had gotten old.

You realize your mistake after one look at your sister -the children were not her daughter and son but Achsah’s grandchildren. She did not realize who you were at first as she thanked you for the children’s safe return, only when you introduced yours by kneeling, pointing at your chest, and saying your name did Achsah realize.

She cried.

You would have cried with her if you could.

The tribe celebrated, showcasing their culture to you, and you were happy to see it all. You hunt with them like how Achsah hunted -all her lessons as fresh as yesterday -and conversed with the many children.

They were very curious about who you are, of your different complexion and red eyes.

These peacefully lasted for a few days.

You leave the tribe for one night and return with news. People are coming, and they have guns to fight against the tribe’s bows and arrows. 

The tribal people are afraid, many of them have become sick these past few days and they are with a small number, but you assure with confidence that you will stay and protect them.

The sick have experienced grand change, shifting like their brother wolves for the first time again after.

You realized that it was you that triggered these, but there was no time to dig into it as Achsah’s grandchildren help you with teaching the tribe.

You won, with only one death among the pack.

It was Achsah’s son.

You know, so you didn’t leave Achsah’s side after the battle. You refuse to even hunt, knowing grievance.

The pack must have sensed it too.

Together, they crowded Achsah’s hut. They all heard your sister plead that you take her life so she could be with her son. 

You wanted to cry and say no, but it’s the only way - _ only way _ that you can be connected.

The tribe knew and accepted their sister’s face, accepting you as one of them instead of looking at you as a god -for their sister’s blood runs through you now. 

You stayed and watched over the pack, helping them grow strong and confident as protectors, but they knew of your mourning heart still continue on. 

You promise them that you will return, when the time is right again.

So when you finally said you’ll have to go, they reluctantly watched you leave.

They sing their prayers, which you still hear after days of roaming. 

It’s time… so you woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you're actually comfortable with this kind of POV, do tell me :D I'd like to see how I can tell a story like this so if you guys are with me, I'd continue on with this POV


End file.
